TWILIGHT MY PAINTER
Professional on land, twilight an artist
Crouched on the sand, the seascape his masterpiece
Beyond the horizon stood his black easel
From the shore, arms with lighted brushes dangle
His pools of pigment, all the shades of yellow
Hovering brushes, on the skyline he throws
Dripping bristles of light, after every go
Lakes of ivory, cream, jasmine on palette
Saffron and gold is his sea, chrome his sunset
With a chant, melody of cheerful waves
Portrayal of evening, before him, he engraves
He works into a gaze, at a lemon pose
When it’s night his mother calls, the painter goes
The picture down, covered in a cloth of black
It will rise tomorrow, when twilight is back.
By Dwayne Lubin
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